We Act Like This
by xxjourney
Summary: Response to TwinkieTUTUS's "Who's Looking For A Challenge?" 15 drabbles for the 15 verbs.
1. Humiliated

Superbad & iCarly: No ownage.

Humiliated

"You know, Freddie, the one with those little gold flecks in it? I know it's really girly, but I love that one," Sam had said. I 'd nodded. I had to impress her. All Jonah was talking about was getting laid, and I had seemeingly developed a crush on Sam over high school. Carly was throwing a party over the weekend while Spencer was gone, and she was trusting Jonah and me with getting the alcohol. Sam wanted the vodka with the gold in it.

So I was ecstatic when I found it, carefully carrying it with me onto the bus. Jonah grabbed cases of beer and rushed out of there, unsure if the cashier would determine, at the last minute, that our fake IDs really _were _fake.

Then, just when I was finally feeling like a person with a future of "getting some," the bottle fell. I felt it falling from my hands, and I tried--in vain--to catch it, but it shattered. "NO!" I screamed. I was **humiliated**. Now what was I going to do? Sam was counting on me to bring her that bottle, and now, what, was I supposed to say, "Hey, sorry Sam, I dropped your booze on the bus. Want to make out?"

The bus stopped in front of a grocery store. My face lit up, and I ran off the bus. I knew something better than alcohol. "Freddie, what the hell are you doing, man?" Jonah yelled.

"Getting bacon for Sam!" I yelled back over my shoulder.


	2. Bolted

Bolted

I was asleep, dreams of dancing ham comforting me. I had a fleece blanket wrapped around my shoulders, and a down pillow under my head. I had fallen asleep in Carly's bed while she surfed the Internet beside me the night before. My stomach growled as I regained consciousness. I was so hungry, but I couldn't move from my nice warm spot to get food. I pulled the blanket over my head to simulate darkness and trick my brain into letting me fall back asleep. Carly stirred beside me. _What time is it? _I moved the blanket enough to glance over at the clock on the nightstand, just beside my head. 12:45 pm.

I **bolted** up. I had missed breakfast _and_ lunch. No wonder my stomach woke me up. I shook Carly awake in desperation. "Carly, Carly, hurry wake up!"

"Is the house on fire?" she mumbled.

"No! I'm starving!"

She yawned. "Just go downstairs. We have leftovers."

I calmed down. Of course there were leftovers. Spencer and Carly had eaten spare ribs, but I had missed dinner and they hid the meat from me. "Where are they?"

"In the microwave on a plate. Just press start."

I grinned and ran downstairs, almost tripping over the bottom step. My stomach growled even louder.

That was when I saw it. Freddie, sitting on the couch, happily gnawing on a pork rib. Fury burned in my every muscle. "You're eating my breakfast!" I accused. He looked up from the television.

"I'm what?"

"You're eating my breakfast!" I repeated, sprinting over to the couch. I was sure there would be only one person alive in this room within the next five minutes.

"You eat ribs for breakfast?"

"How long have you known me, Freddork? I eat anything for breakfast! Give me the ribs!"

He still had the meat poised in front of his mouth. I wanted to smack him in the face and steal the ribs. He knows not to eat food while I'm over here!

"Magic word, Sam."

I gritted my teeth. This kid sucks.

"_Please,_" I stressed. He grinned and handed over the half eaten rib.

I sighed and sat beside him on the couch, rib in hand. He picked up another from the plate in front of him and handed it over to me. I felt the food preventing a panic attack. Some people eat to live; that's literal in my case. I get stressed out and angry when I go at least twelve hours without food.

I smiled. "Thanks, Freddie."

"My pleasure."


	3. Shuddered

Shuddered

I **shuddered** in the cold. Sam was supposed to pick me up from work half an hour ago. I kept calling and texting her, with no reply. I was about to start walking to the bus stop when I saw her mom's van come up the street.

She stopped. "Get in, Freddie," she ordered from the slightly opened passenger side window.

I obeyed, opening the door and buckling myself in. "What took you so long?"

"What are you talking about? I'm on time. You get out at five thirty, don't you?"

I sighed. "No Sam, I get out at five."

"Oh. I guess I was late then."

"Yeah."

I wasn't mad at her; so Sam is forgetful. Big deal. I still love her.

"Hey," she said. "How about I take you out to dinner to make up for it?"

I thought about it. Sam was making pretty good money at her waitressing job at Danny's--although I **shudder **at the thought of all those creepy old men staring at her--and was able to make ends meet every month.

"Alright," I said. "Where to?"

She watched the restaurants pass by on the side of the street. "Don't know. Let's pick someplace random."

-

Five blocks later, we found our "someplace random": a little diner just outside downtown Seattle. We settled into a booth and looked through the menu. The light cast a soft glow on Sam. I smiled.

She looked over at me and grinned back. "What?" she asked softly.

I shook my head. "Nothing. I just love you, is all."

Sam looped her arm through mine, chuckling. "You're such a softie, Benson."


	4. Blotted

Author's Note: iCarly's the property of Dan Schneider (who I am proudly stalking) and the lyrics of "We Are Broken" belong to Paramore.

It's a little long; Sam's reflecting and explaining her home life.

* * *

Blotted

_I am outside_

_And I've been waiting for the sun_

_With my wide eyes,_

_I've seen worlds that don't belong._

The sunrise was taking a long time. I sat on a hill, overlooking my neighborhood. So the streets were a little trashy and the houses were a little messy; that was where I lived, and I loved it. The only bad thing was that I was forced to grow up too fast because of it. I had to look after myself, since my mom was usually out partying or on our couch sleeping off a hangover. When she was awake, Mom still didn't pay much attention to me. Occasionally, we'd have one of those Mother-Daughter "Gilmore Girls" moments, where she suddenly cared about my well being and I responded positively. But more often than not, she sat at home all day, regretting her one-night stands and the cocaine. That was how this place was. Kids learned how to do drugs before they could walk; I knew I should stay away from that crap, which was why I was always hanging out at the Shay's. My mom was aware of that. She didn't want me to end up like her: lonely and psycho because of all the acid she dropped during the seventies.

Don't get me wrong; I love my mom, and she loves me. That's why she was protecting me from all of what was going on at home, dropping me off at Carly's house after school to keep me out of juvie. But that was still all she really did for me. I learned how to do laundry, wash dishes, cook simple meals, and keep the house as tidy as I could while she was out getting drunk or high. I guess I was the "responsible" one.

_Tell me why we live like this..._

The sky was **blotted** with colors as the sun slowly woke up.

_We are broken_

_What must we do to restore our innocence?_

My phone rang. "Hello?" I answered, without looking at the caller ID.

"Hey, Sam." It was Freddie. I made a face. Freddie never called me.

"What's up, Fredward?"

"Okay, I know you're probably going to kill me for waking you up--" he started, but I interrupted him.

"I was already up."

"Oh."

He stayed silent on the other line. I still watched the sky come to life as the sun rose. It was starting to look like those ink **blot**s psychologists show you, only with colors and clouds.

"So why are you calling me?" I asked, when he didn't say anything.

"Well, I, uh, kind of figured something out." I could tell he was stalling. He was the kind of person that beat around the bush.

"Yeah? Spit it out, Freddie."

"I think I love you," he said, so quietly I could barely hear him.

_My mouth is dry _

_With words I cannot verbalize_

No one had ever said that to me, aside from Carly. But that was friend-love, and I don't think it really compared.

I still managed to say it back, and mean it.


	5. Dreaded

A/N: This chapter is very personal to me.

Dreaded

I was hanging out at Carly's again, sitting on the couch and eating some random food while she was upstairs finishing homework. I didn't even know if she knew I was here, but Sam did that all the time.

Sam plopped on the couch beside me.

"Sam," I greeted politely.

"Dork," she said, in the same tone. I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously, Sam? Aren't you a little old for the put-downs?"

"Shut up, Freddie. I'm being _nice_."

I didn't feel like dealing with this today. I was under a tons of pressure and stress already; my grandpa had just died and my mom was even more of a nervous wreck than she usually was. She was letting me do what ever I wanted, but I still had to clean the house and do all the chores and everything, since she mourned in her bedroom.

"Yeah, well, you know I'm not up to it today, Sam," I said, sinking back into the couch and putting a hand over my eyes. The lights were suddenly too bright.

"Your screwed up family and psycho mom taking a toll on you?" Sam said, not the least bit sympathetic.

I sat up. "Are you _kidding _me?I have a screwed up family? Everyone related to you is either hooked on drugs or locked up for life! Your dad was killed in a drug deal while your mom watched! _That's_ pretty screwed up if you ask me, Sam!"

I arguments were never very personal, but she was prying and making fun of me in a low time and I couldn't take it.

Sam stood up and faced me. "Don't even mention Dad," she hissed. "Because I've never even met _your_ dad, Benson. Where did he go?"

I always** dreaded **whenever someone asked about my dad, even if it was just a random stranger. I always had to lie, when in reality he left because of me. He didn't want any kids, he wanted Mom to have an abortion. Tears stung my eyes as I looked away from Sam.

"Exactly," she said, sitting beside me. I looked toward the kitchen, my back to her, so she didn't see me crying.

She sighed. "Look, Freddie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought up your dad. It's just--" she sighed again. "It's ten years today." Her voice cracked. "And I miss him so much," she whispered.

I looked over to her. "We've all got twisted families, Sam. Me, you, even Carly. It builds character. You wouldn't be as strong as you are if your dad was still around."

"Thanks, Freddie," she said, and hugged me. I could feel her tears wetting the shoulder of my tee shirt.

It was then that Carly came downstairs. "What's going on here?" she asked playfully.

"Me and Sam getting along," I said, my arms still around Sam, who I could feel was wracking with silent sobs.


	6. Shrugged

Shrugged

"Sam, do you think this is acceptable?" Mrs. Whatshername said, handing my failed history test to me. I **shrugged.** This teacher was new to the school, so she didn't know that most teachers didn't even care about if I failed. She didn't know that _I _didn't care.

"Sam, you're sixteen years old. High school is almost over, and have you planned your future yet?"

I smiled. "Yes ma'am. I'm working at Wonderland," I said. Maybe she'll be bright enough to detect the sarcasm.

Mrs. Whatever sat on her desk and sighed. Huh. I guess she did figure it out. Kudos.

"I'm not kidding, Sam."

Boy, did she really need to remind me of my name every time she said something?

I looked up at the clock. "Can I go now?"

The teacher shook her head and didn't look at me. "Yeah, I guess so. I'm seriously expecting more from you, kid."

Heh. "Kid." That's my line.

I picked up my books, shoved them in my backpack, and slung my backpack over my shoulder. "See ya."

She waved her hand at me as I ran out the door to freedom. Carly and Freddie were at the lockers, waiting for me.

"What now?" Carly asked.

"That history chick was saying how I have a crappy future if I fail history or something," I replied as I walked up.

"You really should pay more attention," Carly stated simply.

I **shrugged**. "I just don't get history. Learning about dead people isn't exactly my cup of tea. At least you have Spencer to help you."

"I can help," Freddie said. He was standing behind Carly, so I looked over her shoulder to see him. My stomach felt funny when I thought of spending one on one time with Freddie; funny in a good way.

"Uh, okay, but don't you always have a bunch of AV junk to do?"

He nodded. "Only on Wednesdays."

Carly smiled and said, "There you go, Sam. You've got your very own history tutor six out of seven days."

I grinned. "I guess I do."

"You guys want to hit up Groovy Smoothies on the way home?" Carly asked as we walked out the glass doors of Ridgeway High School.

"Sure," Freddie and I said together. I looked over at him and he had a stupid grin on his face. So stupid, I couldn't help but laugh.

That funny feeling came back.


	7. Magnified

The lyrics to "So Close" belong to Jennette McCurdy (I had to use it!)  
If any of you are offended by Freddie's "bipolar" comment, I didn't mean it negatively.

* * *

Magnified

Sometimes I thought about Sam. She's been changing lately.

Like the other night, for example; I was forced to dress up into a tux to go to this formal dinner my mom's friend had invited us to. But, of course, Mom had to "show me off" to Carly, in a last chance-effort to make her fall in love with me. Carly smiled and complimented me and Spencer said I looked like a waiter. I wasn't sure that was a good thing. I tried to not turn red as a tomato and grin.

My embarrassment was pretty much **magnified **when I saw Sam standing off in the corner. Not that I didn't think she'd be at Carly's, I just didn't want her to think I was stupid for looking nice. So when she came near me, I expected a corn dog to be thrown, but instead she said, "You look nice Fredward. You clean up good."

_Keep on tugging, pushing, pulling  
On my little heart strings_

Sam makes me bipolar. One minute, I'm fuming because of something she just said, then the next minute I'm so glad to be around her. She's crazy and insane and beautiful and without Sam, I wouldn't have much.

_Am I out of my mind?  
I think that I might be going crazy_

I never thought the day would come where I admitted this, but I think I am falling for Sam Puckett.


	8. Double Checked

Double-Checked

"Aw, come on, Carls!" I pleaded. "Your grandpa doesn't mind being alone all day!"

She was talking about spending the weekend with her grandfather, saying he was always so "lonely" ever since her grandma passed away. Sure, that was all fine and dandy, but what was _I_ gonna do all weekend? Homework?

"Sam, you'll be fine, promise. But you can't come over to the empty apartment; Spencer's going to an art convention in Portland and actually locking the door. He's taking precautions to make sure we've got food when we come back."

I frowned and sighed dramatically. Now I _really_ didn't have anything to do.

Carly cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes and smiling halfway. "You're such a drama queen."

-

The weekend rolled around, and I woke up at one in the afternoon on Saturday in my own bed. It had probably been a year or so since I actually woke up in my own bed on a Saturday; usually I just spent the weekend over at Carly's. But of course _she_ had to go visit "Grandad."

I dug around for my phone and found it under the pillow. I searched through my contacts to look for someone to talk to, someone that wouldn't have any plans. I tried Gibby.

"Hi, Gibby."

"Sam, are you figuring out how to assault me over the phone now?" he asked, clearly frightened. Well, this could be fun.

"Yes, Gibby. I'm giving you a wedgie right now."

"No! Come on Sam, please! This is brand new underwear!"

"Too late, it's over your head."

Then he started crying, so I guess he really did think I figured out how to assault him over the phone. What a freaking nub.

"Well, see you, Gibby," I said, then hung up, rolling my eyes. That was just ridiculous, and hopefully I wouldn't be this bored ever again in my life to actually call Gibby. It was definitely a new low.

-

Three hours later, I got tired of everything on television and my computer decided to freeze every five minutes, rendering it useless. I **double-checked **my phone every so often to see if maybe someone wanted to hang out. Nothing. Just a few texts from Carly, which I responded to quickly.

I went through my phone book again, playing a game. I would go through the names as fast as I could, then press the "call" button without looking to see who it was, then force myself to have a conversation with the person, even if it was Pizza Shack.

I pressed call. A familiar, deep voice answered on the other end.

Of all people, I had to call Freddie. Screw my life.

"Hi, Freddie. What are you doing?" I managed to ask pleasantly.

"Uh, nothing. Watching TV. My mom's not home," he added.

_Was that some kind of a hint?_ I thought to myself.

Or at least I _thought_ I thought that. Because the next the he said to me was, "Maybe."

I smiled, glad he couldn't see me. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind hanging out with Freddie all afternoon.


	9. Smirked

Smirked

"Sam!" I screamed, storming down the school hallway with ketchup all over my brand new polo shirt. She had really done it this time. I found her standing over by the stairway, talking to a few people. I pushed my way through them, glaring at her.

She **smirked**. "That's a nice look for you, Freddie. Can I have fries with that?" A few of the kids snickered, and I pulled Sam away from them.

"Seriously, Sam, what the hell?" I hissed from where we were, hidden behind some lockers.

Her eyes continued to glitter, and slowly I felt my anger melt away, although I still had to fake it. When she didn't answer, I gripped her arm. "I'm tired of this."

Sam easily rid her arm of my grasp. "I don't care. You know me, Freddie. I do things for fun. If you get upset, good for you." She started to walk away, but I grabbed her arm again and spun her around.

"Do you care about anything?" I asked gently. She looked into my eyes. At that moment, _I _didn't really care if I was covered in ketchup. She was changing me.

"I'm not one to get emotionally attached," Sam answered coolly, still maintaining eye contact. I could see she was lying. She released herself and walked away,

I watched her take step after step, hoping maybe she'd turn around, run to me, and...I don't know.

I just wanted Sam.


	10. Peered

The lyrics to "Beating Heart Baby" belong to Head Automatica, and iCarly belongs to Dan Schnieder.

* * *

Peered

_I don't know what to do with you  
'Cause you  
Don't know what you do to me_

I had been melting for quite some time now. I was shocked I hadn't turned into a weak little puddle. Freddie had been physically destroying me. Lately, I had to leave the room while he was around so my cheeks didn't catch on fire. It's so unlike me; I mean, here I am, Sam Puckett, the girl that most people would describe as "boyish" and "abrasive." And I guess I'm falling in love.

I feel like killing myself! This was never supposed to happen! It's _Freddie_, for pork's sake! Well, it's not really my fault. He's the one that had to go and be all charming and whatnot. He was being nice, sharing food, helping me with homework. Yes, blame Freddie. Blame Freddie...blame Freddie...

-

There was a knock on my front door. My mom was out buying groceries (I know!), so I was home alone with my cat asleep on my lap. I carefully stood up so I didn't wake Truffles, and **peered** through the peep hole. Lo and behold, Freddie was there. I opened the door. "What?"

He still kind of just stood there, the afternoon sun shining on his dark hair. I waited for an answer, biting my lip to hide my smile. He didn't say anything, just came and wrapped his arms around me as I stood in the doorway.

_Baby is this love your for real?  
Let me in your arms to feel  
Your beating heart, baby  
The beating of your heart, baby_

He let go, and I stared at him. "Just testing something," he said, grinning, right before he walked backwards away from my funny brown house, back to the sidewalk.

I closed the door. "Blame Freddie," I whispered.


	11. Flipped

Flipped

I sat in the middle of study hall, all of my homework completed, gnawing on a hang nail. There were fifteen minutes left until school let out, and I was glad it was finally Friday. The week had been long and stressful; I had three projects and an oral report, and I was ecstatic that it was all over.

I was daydreaming when something hit me on the head. I turned and saw a crumpled piece of bright pink paper on the floor, a flyer we had all been handed for the school pep rally the next week. I leaned over and picked it up. I **flipped **the flyer over, and on the back was a picture of hangman and the words "let's play" hastily written underneath. I nodded to myself and wrote "R?" in the right hand corner and threw the paper back to Sam.

The returned paper had two spaces filled with an "R." The game went on like this for a while, until the majority of the puzzle was figured out: "_REDDIE I_ A _OR_." My hangman was on the verge of suicide, but I knew at least the first letter. "F," I wrote.

She threw the paper back, and the answer became obvious. I filled in the answer, "FREDDIE IS A DORK," and tossed the puzzle to Sam. I looked over at her when she opened it. She smiled, and I saw her write something. I turned back, pretending to pay attention to a tree outside the window. The crumpled flyer landed in my lap.

"Congrats. And never forget, you always will be _my_ dork," she had written.


	12. Rejoiced

The lyrics to "Everlasting Love" belong to H. Louise Jones. And of course, iCarly is still Dan Schneider's.

* * *

Rejoiced

_She wasn't searching for the latest style  
He didn't want someone who walked straight off the TV_

"Hey, Sam," he said, nudging me with his elbow. "What are you doing Friday?"

I rolled my head over to look at him. "iCarly. And so are you, remember?"

"Well, I mean after that."

I shrugged. "Nothing. Why, you want to do something?"

Freddie turned red but pretended to ignore it. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

"You're asking me out?"

"Yes, Sam, I am."

"How come?"

Freddie looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"How come you're asking me out and not Carly? Don't you know she kind of likes you now?"

"Yeah, but I'm tired of perfection."

I smiled and **rejoiced** on the inside.

_He wasn't looking for a cuddle in the backseat  
She wasn't looking for a four minute fill._

We dated casually for a few weeks; then he asked if we could go steady. I told him, "One condition: I'm not going to be another notch on your bedpost."

He grinned and took me in his arms. "Never."

"Like you have any, anyway."


	13. Outwitted

Outwitted

"Well, you're neglectful and irresponsible!" I yelled.

"It takes one to know one!" Sam retorted.

I took a step toward her, still angry as ever. "Why do you always have to be so ridiculous?"

She stepped toward me. "Why do you always have to be such a dork?! It's not like I did something illegal!"

"You might as well have!"

"Well I didn't! Why don't you just drop it?"

"Because it will break just like my laptop!" I exclaimed. Why does she never understand?

"I only dropped your laptop! It's perfectly fine!"

Throughout all this we had somehow gone from opposite sides of the room to standing directly in front of each other. I could feel her breath.

"Why are we even arguing about this?" she yelled. "I drop your stuff all the time!"

"I don't know!" I replied to her question, and, taking her head in my hand, I met her lips with mine.

That was probably one of the first times I ever **outwitted** Sam.


	14. Chastised

Chastised

"Blah blah blah," Mr. Howard said. "Blah blah blah." My eyes were half closed and his words were like a lullaby; it's not my fault the man is so boring. I guess my head fell on my desk while I was falling asleep, because the next thing I knew there was a finger stabbing my ribs, and his brown eyes faded away.

"Wake up, Sam!" Carly **chastised**.

"Huh? What?" I mumbled, sitting up.

"Class is over."

"Thank God," I said, gathering my things and following her out the door.

"What did you dream today?" Carly asked while we were at our lockers, getting out stuff for the next class. It wasn't uncommon of me to have huge elaborate dreams whenever I napped in class, and I usually shared them with her.

"Ham," I said simply. "Honey glazed with a side of pineapple."

...but today, on the other hand, I thought I should keep my dream of the tech boy my little secret.


	15. Mystified

Mystified

I lie awake some nights, just staring at the ceiling, thinking. The cars in the street below honked and drove by Bushwell Plaza, not knowing that in apartment 8D is a boy obsessed. No, not about Carly. To be honest, it never really was; I pinned my feelings for Sam to her for years, but I never realized it until recently.

I'm not a creepy stalker, and I don't mean "obssessed" as sneaking over to her house and watching her sleep. That's just spooky, and I know that if she ever caught me I'd wake up with tubes in my arms and an oxygen mask on my face, my mom fretting by my hospital bed.

I stuck to admiring her from afar. She **mystified **me; the way her eyes glowed when she had a great prank planned out, the way she could think of an excuse or a lie, something creative, to get herself out of a jam.

It also struck me as pretty funny that she had considered herself "so observant," yet never noticed me smiling a little too much around her.


End file.
